31/03/2021 Braes of Glenlivet

Braes of Glenlivet 22yo 1989/2011 (60.2%, The Scottish Liqueur Centre Càrn Mòr Celebration of the Cask, Bourbon Hogshead, C#1051, 267b, b#69): nose: I remembered this as fresh and fruity. Today, it seems musty, with damp, dusty dunnage warehouse and old cork. Perhaps there are hints of tame, stone-dried orange peels ("Do you mean: dried until they become a stone, or dried on a stone, tOMoH?" Both!) Breathing opens that up a little and allows a fruitier aspect to grow (dried apricots), as well as wood (wood plane shavings). Old jam jars with rusty lids, kept in the larder of an old castle, and ivy -- that would be the castle's walls, probably. In fact, as it awakes, it suggests warm vegetation more and more clearly. My guess is that it is the alcohol talking: it is rather strong, after all. Tilting the glass reveals something citric, more mandarin foliage than Kaffir lime leaves. Spices develop over time, with crushed bay leaves, grated nutmeg, ground green pepper and powdered lemongrass with a pinch of ginger powder. It is never overwhelming, mind. With water, it smells like a warm, welcoming kitchen. No precise aroma of specific foodstuffs; just that warm feeling of entering a kitchen in which someone is lovingly preparing a meal. Perhaps some kind of broth? The early stages of a soup? That would be melting onions and/or leeks, then. Soon, white tree flowers join the dance: cherry blossom, crab-apple tree, dogwood tree. Mouth: deceptively velvety with warm banana slices, it is like a Trojan horse unleashing its Achaean warriors when one least expects them. Less metaphorically, it starts ravaging the gums a few seconds in. The sheer strength does not completely mask the flavours, though: warm, buttery pastry, apricot-and-herbs turnovers -- oh! It is herbaceous alright. There is lichen, sage, marjoram, none too loud to stop hot, jammy fruits shining. It has a metallic edge as well that balances an otherwise distinct sweetness of light muscovado sugar. Water takes the edge off, and it is now sweet and milky, with vanilla milk, not custard, crushed banana and peach yoghurt, whilst tinned pineapple is meticulously coming out of, well, its tin. Finish: the herbs are here and, this time, they are supporting a wave of melted milk chocolate. The metal is also well present, still, in a pencil-sharpener-blade kind of way, adding bitterness to the whole. Of course, at this strength, it is warming and a half, leaving the tonsils as if sunbathing. The second sip seems sweeter, yet still herbaceous (if mouldy muscovado sugar is a thing, it must taste like this). The banana slices are present, clad in tin foil and barely recognisable. With water, this becomes dangerously quaffable. It retains the warm, fuzzy feeling without the sharp alcohol bite. The herbs have all but gone, leaving sweet notes to shine. Warm peach or banana turnovers, and pulped pineapple. Tin is dialled down in the long run, which spells good news, in my opinion. Superb. 8/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

30/03/2021 Grand Royal

Grand Royal Special Reserve (43%, International Beverage Trading Company, LM006/0281N 6027): a souvenir from FN's trip to Myanmar. Nose: as I remembered it, it smells like a cheap blend -- which it is, I guess. Faint wood polish, flat cola, tinned cola, to be precise, as it smells rather strongly of tin. Not-so-well-integrated alcohol, despite the low ABV, maybe toffee, in an industrial way. Imagine being trapped inside the Quality Street plant, and being stuck at the Toffee Penny line, where they fill tiny metallic moulds with hot, liquid toffee (in my imagination, that is how it works!) Antique cutlery, a drop of tincture of iodine (what?), line-drying linen and rusty laundry pins in the sun. Unusual, if not particularly unpleasant. Some kind of grease too (hair? Barbour? Engine?) Mouth: the attack is flat and feels diluted -- which it is. Soon, flat cola and that ever-present tin catch up, before toffee clings to the front of the mouth, just inside the lips. There is a strange mix of cola sweets and coffee grounds too. At a push, one may detect candied orange peel, faded almost beyond recognition, bar the sugary side. Finish: more of the same -- tinned flat cola, toffee, and even the coffee grounds make a comeback. There is nothing vile about this; it is just not very interesting either. Caramelised orange segments, without the appeal of marmalade. I will stand by my earlier judgement that this could be served at any random bar anywhere in the world that only stocks one whisky for the odd lost stranger, or for late-night whisky sodas. 5/10 (Thanks, FN)

26/03/2021 Whisky-Online Auctions' First Cask tasting Part 1

Tim Roberts, Wayne and Harrison Ormerod of WOA are joined by Lee "Connas" Connor to present this tasting that focuses on Direct Wines Ltd.'s First Cask range. Connas (an unfortunate nickname for anyone hoping to find success in Francophonia) tells us all about First Cask: "It was set up as a subscription thing by Direct Wines, in the same fashion Laithwaites do with wine: one paid £25 a month to receive a bottle by post -- it could be an Aberfeldy or a Port Ellen, amongst others. They were ahead of their time. So much so that it did not last very long. That's about all there is to say about it."

If I was hoping to learn more about how the casks were selected, who the people behind it were, when they started or where they were based, that is my dreams crushed. Connas does tell us that some of the stock came from Signatory, but nothing that I did not already know. Ah well. They were based in Reading, by the way. ;-)

On to the whiskies. I have minute quantities and save some for more detailed notes at another date. I want to enjoy the company and the banter too, tonight.

Auchentoshan 15yo d.1981/1996 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#1159): nose: a pinch of chalk, macerated herbs and a scrape of limestone. It also has distant sweets. This is simultaneously assertive and welcoming. Mouth: lime juice, limescale, grass and grapefruit on chalk, then bergamot foliage ("That's a good note," says Connas -- flattery will get you nowhere, but thanks for trying). It feels green, in a good way, acidic, and a tad mineral. Finish: acidic, herbaceous (quite strongly so), it carries citrus leaves, namely mandarin, bergamot and grapefruit. Long-ish, pleasant finish. Provisional score of 7/10

Royal Brackla 24yo 1975/1999 (46%, Signatory Vintage for Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#5447, b#267): nose: waxy, meaty and sweet. The meat completely vanishes after a second, and makes room for chestnut sweets and avocado oil. It has bruised fruits too; apple, probably. Mouth: beeswax, beard wax, hair grease and, well, wax. Waxy grapefruit skins too. A musty palate, this! Finish: long, coating, waxy as apricot or tangerine skins. Short notes that do not do this justice. It is lovely, and one of the best Bracklas I have had. It will remain my favourite of the evening, against all odds. 9/10

tOMoH: "How did you decide the selection? You had twenty-one bottles to be split into three tastings. Why these now and the others later?"
WO: "It was mostly down to price, to be honest. We could not have the Port Ellen, the Ardbeg and the Linlithgow in the same line-up, as it would have pushed the admission price higher than what our regulars are used to."

Glenlivet 24yo 1974/1999 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#5131): nose: plums, overripe grapes, bursting with sugar. There is also a drop of lamp oil, or walnut oil. Mouth: sweet and nutty in taste, oily in texture, it shows a soft bitterness that makes me think of green-hazelnut custard. Finish: sharp and oily, if that makes sense, it has a definite fruitiness too -- mostly plum. There is also walnut liqueur, some avocado oil and Bourbon-cream biscuits. Another terrific dram. 8/10

Balvenie 20yo d.1972 (46%, Direct Wines (Windsor) Limited First Cask, C#14734): we talk about how rarely Balvenie is seen at the indies'. Connas ventures that maybe even SMWS has not bottled it -- they have (it is #40); seven times, but not for a long time. Independent Balvenie is certainly rarely seen under that name, these days. This must be one of the earliest First Cask offerings, considering the date. Pictures found online also suggest a different livery and company name to all the others. Nose: I find it remarkably close to the Auchentoshan, with chalk, faint menthol and a hefty dose of fruit (plump citrus, tangerine segments, grapes and waxy plums). Mouth: a mix of grapefruit and canary melon, juicy as fook. Behind that is also pomelo and tame lime, alongside tinned pineapple. It is acidic with a softy-softy bitter touch. Finish: super creamy, it now has fruity yoghurt and citrus-y custard. Tangerine segments dance to the swan's song. Towards the death, the drying chalk makes a comeback as well. 8/10

Aberfeldy 15yo d.1978 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#7799): nose: assertive, bold, even, it has tiger balm and melting limestone, with acid poured onto it. I really want to say nuts, but it is really closer to shoe polish. Later on, it turns into lemonade, bringing back the acidity, yet without the face-melting bite, this time. Mouth: nut-and-citrus juice, at once oily and acidic. An unexpected mix, I must say. It tastes wonderful, though. Sweetened orange tonic and more lemonade. Finish: wow! A lick of dark pot ale, almost coffee-like, but much more subtle. Dark chocolate? Chocolate-y stout? Yes, that and pomelo jelly. Another excellent surprise! 9/10

Glen Grant 24yo 1976/2000 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, Sherry Cask, C#2886): nose: gingerbread, ginger Hobnobs, cramique, Selkirk bannock, baked for slightly too long, a faint touch of suet, in the back, rancio, and even old cork. Crumbled speculoos appears too, much to my ecstasy (it spells cinnamon, mostly). Tilting the glass brings sauce grand'veneur under the spotlight too. Mouth: rancio and old cork again. This has been hugely influenced by the wine (the colour leaves little doubt about this being matured in an ex-Sherry cask); it has soaked prunes and sangria talking loudly. Finish: speculoos through and through, with the wine coming back for an encore (more sangria), and fruit as a supporting act: plum, prune, wine-soaked orange. Excellent. 8/10

Port Ellen 18yo d.1976 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#4778): nose: earth and clay, then some old modelling wax and pencil shavings. A mocha coffee pot, cleaned, yet still tainted by the indelible content. After a second, cockles and shellfish start to appear. Crushed seashells. Finally, cashew paste tickles the nostrils. Mouth: ooooh! Salty, coastal, but also sweet, like a dessert pasty filled with a salty mussel sauce and warm sand, washed down with cola. Finish: watery at first, it soon delivers similar sweet/salty flavours rolling on coastal notes of seafood that would be sprinkled with cinnamon and cassia powder, and served with a holly-berry compote. Lovely drop, even if it is the first one tonight in which the dilution is felt a little too strongly. Provisional 9/10

Good fun and great selection. I particularly enjoyed the no-frill approach. No fanfare around the Port Ellen, as other hosts might have done -- in name, it is the only one that sticks out. In fact, it is a rather iconoclastic group: WO explains that they opened the Port Ellen 12yo for the Queen's Visit for Whisky Show Old & Rare 2018 and were utterly underwhelmed by it. It is only the most expensive and highest rated Port Ellen (or, indeed, whisky) in some circles.

Down-to-earth people who love whisky and sharing it without feeling the need for inflated marketing bullshit. Roll on Part 2!

25/03/2021 Midleton

Midleton 20yo 1991/2012 (54.1%, OB Single Cask for The Whisky Exchange, First Fill Bourbon Barrel, C#48750, 205b, b#000109): nose: it is immediately a big, bold whiff of buttery tropical fruits; mango, avocado, ripe golden kiwi, pulped pineapple and white peach. Harder to detect is a nuance of acetone, probably brought in by the grain (this is a single pot still, which means it has unmalted grain in it), giving the whole a rather pleasant, softly chemical edge. Distant mocha, just-baked mocha buttercream cake. This nose has its fair share of wood too, even if it is paper paste and fruit yoghurt, more than old books and ginger shavings. It does have faint teak oil, though. The second sip transforms the teak oil into rubber -- new rubber boots, to be precise. It adds black liquorice laces into the mix too. Mouth: chewy and juicy, the palate presents a more assertive woodiness, with teak oil now under the spotlight, gently acidic or gingery. Soon, that is supported by a fruity cavalcade, with mango and Chinese gooseberry, avocado (especially in terms of the texture) and unripe pineapple. It feels quite acidic, in a good way, and buttery, still. Not rancid butter, though. The second sip, just like the second nose, sees a rubbery note appear -- this time, new rubber, hot off the mould. It does not take away from the glorious fruit; it merely balances it. It is also rather minty, all of a sudden. In the long run, it is almost drying on the tongue, which points to bicycle tubes, coated in mentholated talcum powder. Finish: big and croissant-like, brioche-y, even, this has fruit turnover written all over it. Which fruit? Golden kiwi, canary melon, pineapple, white peach... and a delayed kick of mango. I am tempted to say yellow passion fruit too, perhaps more timid than I would like. That and the hefty ABV reminds me of Passoã, for some reason. Not that Passoã is strong, but its alcohol integration makes it seem stronger than it actually is, I find. Anyway, the finish is long and creamy (as in: whipped cream), and brings back wafts of sliced mango for a long time. The mentholated rubber note rears its head here too, yet it is mostly smothered by the hot, buttery tropical fruits, now. Marvellous! 9/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

23/03/2021 Comber

Yup, it is from the Upper Comber distillery that closed in 1953 or 1956. I do feel rather smug about this -- thanks for asking. :-)

Old Comber 30yo (40%, OB, b.1980s): nose: lots of aromatic herbs and moss-covered metal, grasses, flower seeds and herbs-sprinkled custard. Marjoram, sage, oregano, dried flat parsley, as well as a few crushed mint leaves, also dried. It has a certain fruitiness, not too far below the surface: bergamot and its foliage soon turn into ripening mango and drying orange peel. Then, it is shea butter, minty wood pulp or papier mâché. "Do not be fooled," it says; this whiskey has spent thirty years in wood and it has been influenced by it. The herbs gently come back to the fore, however, roasted bay leaves and waxy lime leaves, before a note of melting plastic rises. Nothing annoying, yet it is there alright: oilskins, warm wellies, warm plasticine. Lastly, the nose shoehorns moist kitchen roll. Mouth: mellow plasticine indeed, scented clay, woody custard, limestone moss in a damp forest... The herbaceous character is still present, soon joined by all sorts of fruits, fresh and dry: unripe pineapple, Brazil nut, apricot compote, warm and concentrated, yet not one bit juicy. Mint surfaces on the tongue too, with Dragibus sweets. Galangal yoghurt underlines the wood influence without cranking up the heat too much. Repeated sipping increases the feeling of a yoghurt-y texture, and makes it close to a gingery paste, a subtle one, with added liquorice or aniseed. Finish: soft and quaffable, oily on the way down, it now showcases black-green model paint (Tamiya XF-27 or Revell #40, more than Humbrol #91). Yes, it is waxy, oily, perhaps a tad chemical, and very long too! In a way, this reminds me of kluwak nuts: they are as oily, as sticky, and have the same sort of colour that this evokes. Not much of the fresh fruit is left in this finish -- at a push, one could find citrus peels, sprinkled with some mint, though it feels too creamy to be citrus. Perhaps it is the continuation of the galangal yoghurt from the palate? Toned-down kluwak-nut paste is what I will call it, spun out with yoghurt and seasoned with mint. Excellent drop. 9/10